


But this is getting good now.

by dinnafashnow



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinnafashnow/pseuds/dinnafashnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Is it weird..." </i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Is it weird to say that we watched it together?" </i>
  <br/>
  <i>"So weird. Probably." </i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Uh, with a bottle of wine. Couple of bottles of wine actually, yeah. Yeah."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"I MEAN, yeah."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"We were like, we've gotta watch this."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"We were, yeah. That's weird. But anyway. But yeah."</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Yeah. And we kind of enjoyed it, but we were quite drunk. You know. So."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	But this is getting good now.

**Author's Note:**

> This one planted itself firmly after [that AH interview](http://www.accesshollywood.com/outlander-sam-heughan-and-caitriona-balfe-on-whats-ahead_video_2408537). I'm sorry that I stopped when I did, it just felt right and was super sweet.

  
The door buzzer rang and Sam near tripped over his own feet to answer it, grinning in anticipation.

"None today," he said into the speaker, grinning as he buzzed her in. He glanced around the lounge room and waited a minute for the footsteps approaching the door. He swung it open just as Cait was reaching out to knock, a bottle of wine clasped firmly in her other hand and her purse tucked under her arm. She paused with her fist in the air and a grin split across her face. Sam raised his own fist in solidarity.

"Today is the day of reckoning," he announced to the hallway. "We ride together, and we die together."

"Drunk already? Did you get a head start?" She pushed her bottle of wine into his hands as she crossed the threshold, slipping her shoes off at the door and heading into the kitchen in her socks.

"I never would."

"Full of it."

"I'm not! Sober as a judge."

"We'd best fix that, then."

  
Cait reemerged from the kitchen with two wine glasses, stopping suddenly as she took a proper look around the lounge room. Sam was grinning so hard his cheeks were hurting. He couldn't help but let out a choked giggle, watching her face. She looked gobsmacked, and possibly a little perturbed. He, on the other hand, was well chuffed with his work.

"What."

"What!"

"What have you done."

"I've set the mood!"

Dozens of tealight candles covered every flat surface, flickering away, fighting their warm glow against the cool autumn evening light filtering through the windows.

"You're ridiculous."

  
She headed for his couch, blowing out a few candles on her way past, and settled herself in the best seat. He thought about reprimanding her before deciding against it, settling down next to her and pouring out two slightly fuller than standard glasses of a good-looking red. He screwed the lid back on the bottle and left it within reach, handing Cait her glass before reaching for the remote.

"Wait."

"No, we've got to rip the bandaid off."

"Let me at least finish one glass!" She took a big sip, apparently demonstrating how quickly she could do that. Sam grabbed the remote nonetheless, but held it without activating anything.

"One glass."

  
He held his glass out to her for cheers, despite her getting a head start. She clinked and took another sip, less voraciously this time. He pursed his lips and took a sip himself, before easing back onto the couch and finding a comfortable spot. The wine glass stem twisted between his fingers as he watched her, her eyes focused on one of the tealight candles, her wine rapidly disappearing. He took a deep breath and a big mouthful of wine, catching up to her quickly, then unsettled himself from the couch and grabbed a couple more bottles to place on the coffee table. Just in case. Her smirk in reply was laced with approval, he was sure of it.

  
"I suppose we could start it," she said, nursing her glass to her chest and glancing over at him. "I mean, I don't think we're immediately naked, or anything."

"I honestly can't remember the exact run through," he replied, "though I think the worst bit's at the end."

"The _worst_ bit?"

"You know what I mean! The particularly naked bit."

"Boobs and bums," she giggled into her glass.

"Aye, yep." He cracked the bottle back open to top them both up. "Should we have a drinking game, or something?"

"How about..." Her face was thoughtful as she watched the wine filling her glass again. "How about when the show's on, don't stop drinking."

"Yes. Those rules sound reasonable and uncomplicated."

  
Sam settled back onto the couch again, shuffling in against Cait's side and comfortably resting his arm over her shoulders. She let out a deep breath and relaxed against him, her glass safely in her grasp.

"Are you ready?" He wedged his glass between his legs and dug the remote out from where it had already buried itself between the couch cushions, holding it up to the TV and switching it on.

"Nope."

"Me neither. Let's do this."

  
\----------

  
_"I'll have the pleasure of introducing them to Mrs. Frank Randall."_   


_"You're mad."_

  
"He's so smooth. Frank Randall. Ladies' man. I'd say yes, too. Look at that man."

"Look at my hat! Oh, look at that coat. I miss the forties."

"Oh, it's me! That was a bit startling. I'm going to drink every time it's me."

"I think you should reconsider that. Oh, they kept my skid in! I was very proud of that skid."

"It was very smooth."

  
\----------

  
_"We are all about to embark on a boat made entirely of paper."_   


  
"I somehow forgot about all these bits I'm not in," she said, sitting up a bit straighter. "Look at you guys! Aw. So serious."

"We had to do about twelve takes just to—"

"Ssh, I'm watching." She did seem to be captivated. As much as he wanted to watch the screen, he couldn't help but watch her instead, grinning as she wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, Dougal. Aw, Jamie."

"And we're back in the room." He'd glanced back over just in time to pretend to have been paying attention.

"Drink every time we're back in the room," she replied, throwing her glass back. He felt slightly drunk on her.

"I haven't stopped drinking."

  
_"You have my name. My clan. My family."_   


  
"Look at your wrinkly forehead."

"Let's not start pointing out flaws, now, that could end very badly." Silently, Sam conceded that his forehead _had_ been quite creased in that shot. He raised his eyebrows to try to feel for the ripples forming. Hm.

"Fair point. Aw, nice hand holding shot."

In unison, they joined in for the infamous " _TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAMILY_ " line, then exploded into giggles. That had been the result of numerous takes, and more than a couple of bumped foreheads and accidental kisses. Speaking of foreheads,

"Look at my enormous forehead."

"Hey, no flaws." Cait smacked at his hand.

"Look at my lovely, enormous forehead." Was he destined to have a forehead complex after this? He started to reach for his forehead but then got distracted by the progression on screen. "Oh, they're skipping through all those stories I had downpat. And you're talking over most of them."

"I am not! You can still hear you. As if you'd ever shut up." He smacked back.

  
_"To bed? Or to sleep?"_   


  
"Oh, here we go." Cait sat up to fill both their glasses again, putting aside the first bottle, now empty.

"It looks kind of dreamy. It's nice."

"It's so far removed from what we actually did, it's weird."

"That's still us actually doing that, though."

"You know what I mean. That was work, and this is a show. And that's my bum."

"You can't see anything, it's under your shift."

Their commentary dropped off as Claire's items of clothing did, and they were listening to the sound of each other breathing. Breathing in stereo. Breathing next to each other, breathing through the speakers. Sam felt his cheeks getting warm as he took another drink. He tightened his grip around Cait's shoulders, his fingers brushing up and down along her arm. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen, though listening to the sound of their kissing made him wince slightly. His cheeks had gotten warmer. He tore his eyes away to glance down at Cait momentarily and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut. He barked a laugh and knocked his head against hers lightly.

  
"That's cheating," he murmured. She glanced up at him, face flushed. "Plus," he nodded to the screen, " _there's_ your bum."

"Oh, god," she groaned, covering her face with her free hand, but peeking through her fingers, "this is so awkward."

"Finish your drink," he replied, finishing his own in demonstration.

  
\----------

  
_"Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser."_   


  
Claire and Jamie clinked glasses, and so did Sam and Cait, with a somewhat tipsy giggle bubbling over from the both of them. Cait refilled their glasses again, working through a second bottle, and performed a bit of a balancing act with her full glass as she settled back onto the couch. She took a sip, tucked her feet up and leaned against Sam, cuddling his arm and reaching down to thread her fingers through his. She rested her head on his shoulder. After another drink, he rested his head against hers.

  
\----------

  
_"It was as if I stepped outside on a cloudy day and suddenly the sun came out."_   


  
"That fucking dress," Cait scowled.

"It looks amazing."

"It does look amazing."

" _You_ look amazing."

"You do," she murmured, squeezing his arm. "Look, they kept the shot of Stephen picking his ear."

"Perfect. Look at Duncan's face."

"I wanna squeeze it. Look at _your_ face. I wanna eat you up."

"You're a violent drunk." His cheeks got impossibly warmer, betraying him. "This is great."

"This is lovely."

"Very good."

"More wine?"

  
\----------

  
_"Take off your shirt. I want to look at you."_   


  
"You're not asleep, are you?"

Cait's head popped up from where she'd been resting warmly against Sam's shoulder. "No."

"You don't want to miss the best part."

"Is that what we're calling it?" She snorted. "I thought it was the worst part. Aren't we calling it bums and boobs?"

"Look at me. I look great."

"I need a top up."

Cait sat up and retrieved her empty glass from where she'd wedged it next to her, leaning forward for the wine, but Sam pulled her back onto the couch and grabbed her under the jaw, pointing her face at the television.

"Look at me!"

"Don't make me! I need wine! Please!" Her arm strained out in front of her, desperately reaching for the bottle.

"Just look at that arse. That's a good... this... yeah, okay. This is getting... this is nice but awkward."

"Please, more wine. Please."

"There are your breasts."

"Wine. Give me the wine. Please let me have the wine, Sam."

"I feel like it would be less awkward if we were naked."

Cait yanked her face out of his grasp and topple back onto the couch due to the force she'd needed for her freedom. She spluttered out a " _What!?_ " as she found a more normal sitting position again.

"NO I MEAN—in general and not watching the show. If we were just drinking wine and being naked and not watching ourselves being naked together on the television."

"Shush, we have to—it's almost finished. We have to just get through this. Shush."

Sam shushed. Cait emptied the second bottle.

  
\----------

  
_"I did not know women could..."_   


  
"It did _not_ feel this sexy at the time. This is embarrassingly sexy." Cait's voice sounded muffled, and with a glance over his shoulder Sam noted that was because she appeared to be trying to hide her face in her wine glass. She had slouched back on the couch, her feet perched on the edge of the cushion, knees pulled up in front of her in order for her to duck down below them and shield her view of the screen at a moment's notice.

"It looks very sexy." By comparison, Sam had shifted forward to the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steeped together. He was a bit riveted and a lot warm in the face.

"It even _sounds_ very sexy. Our parents could see this."

"It's not _us_ , though."

"They're our bits, Sam! And those were my noises! I think!" She promptly buried her face back in her glass as she finished her wine. Sam wanted to touch her cheek to see if it burnt as much as it looked like it would. He looked back to the screen, then nodded at it.

"And I suppose that _is_ your mouth biting my stomach."

She scoffed. "And that's a fair approximation of your... you know. Your face. When you... when your face is like that."

"Shush."

  
\----------

  
Two bottles of wine were empty, and most of the tealight candles were close to being out. The screen had faded to black. Cait was still curled up on the best bit of Sam's couch, now clutching her wine glass tightly in her fists. Sam glanced over his shoulder and laughed, reaching back to pry the glass from her hands and put it on the coffee table before wriggling back on the couch to sit shoulder to shoulder with her, still grinning. Still blushing, but still grinning.

  
"Well then."

Cait bit her lip and nodded. "Yep."

"There was that."

"That was the show."

"That was something, that's for sure."

"That sure was something."

"We sure are." He winked at her.

"We acted our bums off." She held her finger up, heralding a better suggestion. "Our clothes. We acted our clothes off."

Sam nodded solemnly in agreement. "We literally acted our clothes off."

"We're so talented."

"I'm quite drunk."

" _We're_ quite drunk."

Sam held his open palm up to Cait and she high-fived it and then suddenly leapt off the couch, stumbling a couple of steps before heading down the hallway to the bathroom, at a guess. He listened to her bumping into the walls on her way. We're quite drunk, indeed.

  
He took the moment of solitude to stretch himself out comfortably on the couch, kicking his feet up. Cait came bumping back down the hallway, paused in the doorway to assess the change in her surroundings, then promptly marched over (a little wonkily) and sat on Sam's stomach.

"Oof, woman."

She raised an eyebrow at him in response. He accepted her challenge and sat up to get a hold on her, flipping her neatly under him with a grunt of exertion and ending up sprawled over her awkwardly. Not a flawless move, but still a victory.

"Oof yourself, you big lug."

She wriggled underneath him but he only shifted about until he had her trapped even more securely, his knees and elbows pinning her to the couch.

"I'm the winner."

"To the victor go the spoils?"

  
He loomed over her and leaned down, her breath on his lips. He caught the faint scent of toothpaste.

"Did you... did you brush your teeth?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Maybe."

"With my toothbrush?"

"Well, mine's at home, isn't it."

"You're a strange bird."

He kissed her then, strange and all, running his tongue along her minty teeth until she giggled, but she also pulled back from him, pushing her hand against his chest.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I don't. Tell me."

"I don't either, though," she replied, reaching her hand up to the back of his neck to pull him back down to her.


End file.
